The Mortal Chronicals: The Mist Chosen
by RoseRed01
Summary: Andy is just a mortal. But he keeps seeing weird things, and is whisked away to a world few mortals get to see. But why? And why does this infuriating kid named Percy Jackson keep crossing paths with him time and time again? Andy wants it all to stop. After all, he's only human. But that, he learns, could be the key to saving us all.
1. Some Kid Vaporizes my PreAlgebra Teacher

***ATTENTION: PLEASE READ THIS AS IT IS CRUTIALLY IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY!***

**This fanfic is going to be part of a four-story series called "The Mortal Chronicals". The first three may be read in any order, but all three must be read in order for the fourth to make sense. **

**Ok, so, I thought of this fanfic because I thought it would be great to give mortals a chance. After all, who says humans can't do amazing things for the gods too, right?**

I pulled my hood farther down my face, trying to avoid glances. Sitting in the back of a crowded school bus, I didn't look much different from everyone else, and the average person might be able to look over me. But unfortunately, I was not among average people. These people were vicious. They were scary. And they were definitely NOT average; more like below it.

I was on a school field trip, the worst thing to be on at my school. On school field trips, there are only two teachers with twenty mental-case students. There were no safe classrooms, no schedules on paper to follow, and no teachers monitoring your every move. Most kids would be happy about that sort of thing. But not me. It took every bit of willpower not to scream every time someone looked at me in an even remotely menacing way.

My name is Andy Granger.

How I got into Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids, is anyone's guess.

Supposedly I was a troubled preteen who suffered from hallucinations, resulting in severe anxiety. But I'm not crazy. One day I'll show them I'm not. But at any rate, I don't see why sending me to a juvenile delinquent school is supposed to help any of that.

Right now I was sitting in the very back of the bus, ipod in hand, trying to inconspicuously steal glances at the situation unfolding in front of me while still avoiding the gaze of one of the many school bullies: Nancy Bobofit. I had always thought it a little funny; Nancy from Yancy, but of course I never said it to anyone, for fear of death by beating.

Nancy was chucking pieces of peanut butter and ketchup sandwich at one of the guys two seats in front of me. Why someone would eat peanut butter with ketchup, I had no idea. The thought made me nauseous. I felt bad for the victim. The gooey masses stuck in his curly hair, and the guy looked about ready to cry.

I heard the other guy, someone with black hair and fierce green eyes, mumble, "I'm going to kill her".

I took out one ear bud and listened intently.

"It's ok," said the sandwich victim, but I could tell it was definitely not ok "I like peanut butter".

_Yeah, but with ketchup?_ I thought, shuddering in my mind.

Nancy threw another piece of sandwich, and being dodged by its target, went flying over the seat and right into my face. I spluttered, spitting out the unusual condiment combination. I just barely caught what Sandwich Target said next.

"You're on probation. You know who will get blamed if anything happens".

I froze. I knew who this guy was. I couldn't think of his first name, but I knew his last name. Jackson. The name sent shivers down my spine. This kid had been kicked out of almost every private and boarding school in the area. This guy was legendary. And I had made it my goal to stay away from him. This dude was connected with all of my troubles. And I wanted no part of it.

Jackson sat down, though reluctantly, and was able to mostly keep his cool for the rest of the bus ride.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Mr. Brunner led the tour of the museum. The whole year I didn't really know what to think of the guy. Yeah, he was cool and all, but there was something about him that wasn't…right. First o all, he replaced another Latin teacher only two weeks into the year. And for the whole year from that point everyone forgot the first. No, they actually had their minds _wiped clean_ of it. I kept asking every so often where the old teacher was, and everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Even the Jackson kid thought there was, and had only been, Mr. Brunner. From that moment I tried to distance myself from him as much as possible. I had had this situation once or twice, and the outcome wasn't pretty…

But Mr. Brunner wasn't near as menacing as Mrs. Dodds. The mere mention of her name gave me the creeps. Old, but sharp, Mrs. Dodds looked mean enough to run over a kitten with a monster truck. But it wasn't just that. Mrs. Dodds wasn't just a mean teacher. She was pure _evil_. I didn't tell anyone this, but if I looked at her real closely, or out of the corner of my eyes, she didn't even look _human_. Crazy, I know, but I'm not lying. Her skin was that of a wrinkly old leather purse, and her eyes glowed red. She had wings and a mouth full of jagged teeth. Every time I looked at her in a public area, like monitoring lunch or on a field trip like this one, she seemed to always have her eyes on Jackson, eyeing his hungerly.

Anyway, Mr. Brunner was talking about some ancient Greek artifact, when Nancy Bobofit snickered about something, I couldn't hear what, and Jackson turned around and shouted, "Will you _shut up_?!"

The people around me all laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Jackson," he said. "Did you have a comment?"

Jackson's face turned red and he mumbled, "No sir".

Brunner pointed to the stele. "Perhaps you could tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the Jackson kid, and saw a flush of relief pass over his face. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

Brunner didn't look satisfied. "Yes. And he did this because…"

Jackson's expression flickered. "Well…Kronos was the king god, and—"

Oo, mistake number one.

"God?" Mr. Brunner said with a raised eyebrow.

"Titan." Jackson corrected. "And…he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, Kronos ate them right?"

So good so far…

"But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" I said aloud, but it came out sounding like a girl, so I clamped a hand over my mouth.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and titans, and the gods won".

I heard some snickers from the group.

Nancy mumbled to her friend, "Like we're going to use this stuff in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids'".

_Like you would ever know,_ I thought moodily.

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," I heard the kid next to Jackson murmur.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, and I took a step back even though she wasn't talking to me.

Jackson paused, then said, "I don't know sir".

"I see," Mr. Brunner said with a frown. Was it just me, or did he look like he expected some great explanation from _Jackson_? The kid couldn't even stay in the same school for more than a year. There were _bets_ on how long it would take for him to get kicked out of this one. "Half credit Mr. Jackson. Zues did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

We were lead out, and I made sure I lagged behind, as usual. I never talked to anybody, never had any friends. I was just walking out when I noticed the curly-haired kid walking by himself. That's weird he was always with the Jackson kid. I looked back and saw Jackson talking with Mr. Brunner. I was looking back, so I didn't see what was in front of me, and I ran into Mrs. Dodds.

"Oops," I said timidly, avoiding the teacher's gaze. "Sorry Mrs. D".

"Careful _Mortal_," Mrs. Dodds hissed. I looked up and saw her red eyes glowing with fury. That word made my skin crawl. _Fury…_

The way Mrs. Dodds had called me a mortal; almost like…like she wasn't.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The class ate lunch by the entrance, the traffic of Fifth Avenue in sight. I nibbled my sandwich, which was not, thankfully, filled with peanut butter and ketchup. I looked up at the storm boiling in the heavens above. The weather recently had been crazy, and it made me nervous. Not the weather, the reason behind it. Every so often, in the middle of a storm or on tv, a story about a wildfire or flood or earthquake, I would see what looked almost like a chariot dart in and out of the clouds, or a hand reach down and strike a bolt of lightning. Crazy, I know, but I saw it with my own eyes.

I watched the kids in my class from a distance, sitting on the steps of the museum. I saw the Jackson kid join the curly-haired one near the fountain, distancing themselves from everyone else. I could understand why. Yancy Academy wasn't a school to be proud of. All the students were just there because they couldn't make it anywhere else, and it was illegal not to go to school at this age. I studied the curly-hair kid. He was another I was cautious about. There was something different about him for sure. The kid walked on crutches, but I had seen him move fast when he needed to. The crutches were obviously just a ploy. And he had an acute sense of smell too. And his laugh was weird, almost like…

Just then Nancy Bobofit came over with about three of her friends and dumped her lunch all over the curly-haired kid.

"oops," she said spitefully.

Then things got weird. The Jackson kid seethed in rage, and before I could comprehend what was happening, the water from the fountain reached out and grabbed Nancy, and then she was sitting in it, shrieking.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes.

Suddenly Mrs. Dodds was right there with a triumphant smile on her face. After she promised Nancy that she would get her a new t-shirt, she said to Jackson, "Now Honey—"

"I know," Jackson said. "A month erasing textbooks".

I spit out my soda. I knew Jackson had his moments, but was he really that _stupid_? He was gonna die!

Mrs. Dodds' smile disappeared and she said coldly, "Come with me".

"Wait!" said Curly-hair. "It was me. _I_ pushed her".

I choked. They were _both_ gonna die! They would have to dig each other's graves, suffer a horrible death. And haunt Yancy for all eternity.

"I don't think so Mr. Underwood," said Mrs. Dodds.

"But—"

"You—_will_—stay—here".

He looked at Jackson.

"It's ok man," he said. "Thanks for trying".

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds called. "_Now_".

I screamed as I saw her materialize—literally—at the top of the steps. Luckily I was behind a column and she couldn't see me.

Jackson turned and followed her up the steps and into the museum. Just before she closed the door, I saw her form flicker, and she turned fully into the creature I had thought I was imagining the whole school year. I screamed again.

I had to help the Jackson kid. He made me nervous, but I had to help him. I didn't know what else to do, so I bolted for Mr. Brunner.

"Mr. Brunner!" I shouted. He was sitting in his wheelchair, reading a novel.

He looked up and saw me. "Hello Mr. Granger. What brings you here? Do you have a question?"

"Mr. Brunner, the Jackson kid is in trouble!" I probably sounded crazy, but I told him what I saw. Mr. Brunner was a good listener, and when I was finished, he looked at me in confusion.

"You saw that?" he asked.

"Um…yes," I shifted.

"Interesting…" he said. "A mortal…"

"Um, hello? Student in danger!"

"Right," Brunner said. "I have to help him". And with that, Mr. Brunner wheeled up the ramp.

"Wait!" I chased after him. "You believe me?"

Mr. Brunner stopped and looked back at me. "Of course".

"But—" I said. "Everyone else thinks I'm crazy".

Mr. Brunner put a hand on my shoulder. "Andy, people may say things to you that will make you sound crazy. But you are _not_ crazy. You are a gifted child. Remember this".

"I—I will".

"Good. Now let me help my student".

"I'm coming with you".

"No you're not. It's too dangerous". And he wheeled away. I lingered for a moment, then followed after him, but at a distance.

When I reached him, I saw a scene unfolding that turned the world upside down. Jackson apparently saw Mrs. Dodds for what she was, because he looked terrified. Mr. Brunner appeared and shouted, "What ho, Percy!" and tossed a pen.

Mrs. Dodds lunged.

Jackson caught the pen, but it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword, gleaming bronze in the light. He slashed, and the blade passed right through Mrs. Dodds like play-dough. The former teacher let out a _hisss!_ and exploded into what looked like sand. All that was left was the smell of sulfur and an evil chill in the air, like her ghost was still there.

Mr. Brunner was gone. There was no sword. I backed away before I could be seen and ran away, and didn't stop until I was back in my seat on the bus.

When I got back to the bus, I saw a pretty woman whom I had never seen before.

I whispered to the person behind me, "Hey, who's that?"

"That's Ms. Kerr, our teacher," he said.

I gave him a confused look. "Mrs. Dodds is our teacher".

"What are you talking about, you freak?!"

I sat back down and didn't speak for the rest of the trip. Something was definitely up.

Percy was his name. Not a very menacing name, but now I was more terrified that ever of the kid. He was connected to all the mess I had had to deal with my whole life. It was how I had gotten into Yancy. And now I knew I had to stay away from him, no matter what it took.

**Ok, so that's the first chapter! Not all of the chapters will be as scripted with the book as this one. Andy will get some chapters for himself. But there will be several crossovers with pjo, as Andy's path does cross with Percy's several times. This story will cover the time span of all five books of pjo. I hope you like it and continue reading!**


	2. Sleep Walking

I had been through more than my fair share of strange phenomena, but the Mrs. Dodds incident was just too much. The rest of the school year was a blur. Every so often I would ask people about her, or how Mrs. Kerr even got into Yancy, but they would always have the same response. That I was crazy; just the psycho mental kid who had to see a mental therapist twice a week.

But I knew they were all wrong. I had seen Mrs. Dodds with my own eyes. And especially after what Mr. Brunner had said to me that day at the museum, I knew it was true. I just wondered what was going on. Why had no one else suspected Dodds? And why were they all acting like _I_ was the crazy one? These thoughts swirled around in my brain constantly; day after day, night after night, during school, after, and every moment between.

I tried to talk to Mr. Brunner again, but every time I got up the courage, he was absent that day with a substitute teacher in his place. I tried to talk to Percy, but every time I tried, either Mr. Brunner, or his friend, Grover, got in the way. It was almost as if they were _purposefully_ trying to keep us apart.

I never got any sleep anymore. I kept myself awake, because every time I closed my eyes I saw the horrible creature of Mrs. Dodds. She haunted my every day, lingering in my thoughts and hiding in phantom shadows. I lost so much sleep I couldn't pay attention in class, and my grades slipped further and further.

As my grades slipped, so did Percy's. The guy was obviously going through something too, as he was now failing in almost every class. We were both losing sleep, though it gave us different reactions. He got cranky and irritable. I got anxious and jittery. I always had a nervous look in my dark eyes whenever I looked in the mirror. My brown hair lay in a bedraggled mess, and I couldn't stand talking to another human being. People started blatantly avoiding me, parting in the hallways, whispering behind my back.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my nerves at all. Storms, hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, all within just miles of Yancy Academy.

One night I was just too tired, and I fell asleep. The nightmare quickly persisted. I stood in a dark chamber of sorts. Mrs. Dodds, concealed in her human disgiuse, stood no more than twenty feet away.

"Mortals," she spat. "I never liked you".

I shifted. "Then we have something in common".

"You humans think you're so smart," she hissed "with your science and technology. However, I am not the one who decides your fate, and Master says you should live. I don't know why though. If you ask me, the world would be better off without mortals, especially you".

"Me?" I asked. "What's so special about me?"

Mrs. Dodds sneered. "How quaint. Perhaps I will enjoy watching you die at the hands of your own puzzling destiny".

"What are you talking about?" I said, backing away. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"

Dodds smiled a hideous smile. "Master did not say I couldn't torture you". She lunged, emitting a screech that pulled a scream from my throat. I dodged her, but she just looked at me and hissed.

Percy had used a sword to kill her before. If only I had a weapon or something…

Suddenly I realized there was something in my hand. I looked and saw the strangest weapon I'd ever seen. It was curved, like a stretched-out crescent moon. It had a leather-bound grip in the middle and razor-sharp bronze blades on either side. My hand brushed across the blade, but it didn't cut me. Instead, my fingers passed right through it.

"A boomerang?" I said incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me".

A screech snapped me back. Mrs. Dodds was charging at me, full steam. I didn't know what else to do, so I threw the boomerang. It flew through the air, and when it did the light around it bent, creating a greenish light, the boomerang sliced through her, and just before it did, I saw Mrs. Dodds for what she really was.

"ANDY!" I voice screamed so loud that I woke up. I was disoriented for a while, and I leaned against the wall.

Wait, leaned?

I was standing up, in the boys' dorm, panting and sweating. Carnage lay all around me. Papers were everywhere, sheets were torn, and every eye in the room was on me. They all looked terrified.

Suddenly a voice breached the silence. "Any Granger!" I looked and saw, to my horror, my therapist. She's a pretty woman with long curly black hair and heels. Her amber eyes were always suggesting something hard behind the guise of an understanding therapist. Mrs. Peterson grabbed e by the wrist and pulled me outside and straight to her office. She sat me down in my usual seat.

"Andy, you're getting out of control," she said.

I would have been embarrassed, because I was still in my pajamas, but I was too confused. "I don't understand. What happened?"

"You mean you really don't…" she stopped from a puzzled look from me.

"No," I said. "All I remember is having a dream about Mrs. Dodds—"

"Andy, I've told you there is no such thing as Mrs. Dodds". Mrs. Peterson put a hand to her forehead. We had been over this several times.

"It was just a dream!" I insisted.

"No it wasn't," she said. "Andy, you were sleep walking. You were having a fit. Talking about things like monsters and killer boomerangs. Andy, you could have hurt somebody".

I was taken aback by this. "I…what?"

"Yes, Andy. You were really doing that". Mrs. Peterson shuffled a few papers on her desk, which is what she does when she's fed up with me. "I got a call from the school board. I don't know if they'll let you come back next year".

I was silent.

Peterson sighed. "Go back to the dorms. The mess has been taken care of. I'll let you know after exams if you've made it to next year or not".

I fell out of the chair and down the hall. What had happened to me? Why was I tormented like this? This only added to the plethora of questions I'd had all my life.

I was halfway back to the dorms when I heard a _clop-clop, clop-clop_. I ducked into a classroom and peered out a window. Across the hall I saw Percy Jackson with a similar idea, but he didn't see me.

Then, a large figure cast a shadow over the window. I looked, and could just make out the figure of what looked like a man riding a horse. But that was impossible. There were no horses on campus. I heard Mr. Brunner's voice, "Nothing. My nerves haven't been right since the winter solctice".

"Mine neither," came Grover's voice. "But I could have sworn…"

"Go back to the dorm. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow".

"Don't remind me," Grover grumbled. Grover walked away down the hall, and Mr. Brunner went the opposite way.

After about ten minutes, Percy slipped out his door and bolted down the hall. I waited a second or two, then I slipped out the classroom I was in. I stopped, looking down the dark hall at the tall figure. He couldn't see me.

He murmured something that I could just barely decipher it, "Kindly Ones. In the school. I'll have to talk to Zeus about this".

Those sentences shocked me like lightening, and I sprinted as fast as I could out of there.


	3. Glass Prison

The next day I got the news: I would not be coming back to Yancy next year. As I packed my things, I tried to avoid glances, which was hard to do because everyone was looking at me. I didn't even stay for dinner. After exams, I headed to the dorms, grabbed my things, and met Mrs. Peterson, whom I called by her first name outside of school, Gracie, in front of the school.

"Oh, good, you're here Andy," Gracie said vaguely to me, a cell phone clasped tightly to her cheek. Turning her attention to the device she said, "I don't care how busy you are. I need you here to pick up the child and I asap".

The child. That's what they called me.

Gracie hung up the phone and placed in her pocket. She turned to me and said, "Are you sure you packed everything?"

"I'm sure," I said, shouldering my bags.

Suddenly I heard the air being sliced. I looked up and saw a black helicopter, descending to the parking lot of the school.

"Looks like our ride's here," Gracie said, and put on a pair of sunglasses that blocked out her cold eyes. I followed her to the helicopter, where my bags were placed beside me in a seat. I hated helicopter rides. There wasn't any more uncomfortable transportation, and believe me, I've ridden them all.

"Go to the mansion," Gracie informed the driver. He nodded and the copter began to ascend. I tightened my seat belt and pulled my feet up to my chest.

"Andy, relax," Gracie said. "We're not going to crash".

There was no conversation for the rest of the trip. But I didn't relax. Even though I was headed away from the school that had brought me so much stress, I knew there was still more to come. I had delt with stuff like this my whole life, and I knew this was not the end. Plus, I was only leaving one trouble to return to another.

Hours later, the helicopter touched down on the roof of a skyscraper in the middle of Manhattan, New York. I happily got out of the copter and shuffled through the door on the top of the building. I left my things on the roof, for I knew people would be there in a few minutes to collect them.

Gracie and I walked down a long, carpeted corridor, and into a glass elevator. I stood there, listening to the synchronized _ding, ding_ of the elevator. I looked behind me, away from the door and saw a breathtaking view through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the city. I watched as the buildings got closer. My eyes shifted to the Empire State Building, where clouds were brooding over the top. I shifted uncomfortably as I saw, the all too familiar mountain range seated in the clouds. I had wondered over it for years, but never been able to figure out the meaning of it. I tried to point it out when I was little, but no one else seemed to be able to see it.

"Andy, come on," persisted Gracie, who gently tugged my shoulder. I broke away from the view and walked out the now open doors of the elevator. I followed her through a corridor that was even longer than the first, dotted with doors here and there along the walls. Paintings of ancient people hung on the walls, and the plush carpet squished under my feet. Gracie and I walked farther still, until we came to a large set of oaken double doors at the end of the corridor. Gracie pushed the doors open and we walked inside.

Inside was a huge office, and in front of me loomed a large oaken desk, behind which sat a man with greying black hair and a face that was molted into a permanent brood. He looked over the desk at me without a smile and said, "Ah, I see the school year is already over".

I shifted uncomfortably.

"What's the news Gracie?" the man asked.

Gracie stiffened importantly. "Andy was involved in a few incidents this year. The school board has informed me that he won't be welcomed back to Yancy next Fall".

The man sighed, shuffling papers on his desk, which I knew meant he was angry. He turned back to me. "Andy, what have you been told about these crazy hallucinations?"

I sighed and recited, "The things that can't be explained are nothing. Only what can be proved by science is true".

"So why do we keep running into this problem?" he looked at me for explanation.

"But it wasn't me this time!" I said. "It was someone else. There were two teachers; I'm pretty sure they both weren't even human, and this one kid named Grover, I think he was involved—"

"Andy," the man said, putting a hand to his forehead. "I am well aware of your hallucinations. But this has to stop. I can't waste all my time trying o find schools to put you in". He shook his head. "Please go".

"My pleasure," I grumbled. I turned to leave, but Gracie stopped me.

"What was that you said?" she said in a single look.

I turned back to the man, who was looking at me expectantly.

I bit my lip, then said, "Yes…Father".

My Father nodded his head and I left the room, hitching a ride on the elevator up to mine.

I live in a glass prison, if _live_ is a word you would use. I had everything I could ever need or want, plus more, in the sky-high mansion of my family. It was just my Mother, Father, Gracie, and I, and I felt even more lonely in it than you could ever imagine. In addition to not meeting anyone my age while living there, I never even saw my parents. My father owns a huge company; something to do with building houses, and my mother was a world famous actress. perhaps you've heard of Gracyn Granger? They were so popular in the world, but no one had heard of Andy, their only son. No, as far as the world was concerned, there was no such person as Andy, and that was just how my parents had preferred it. I was considered crazy, and a loony kid like me was an embarrassment to my family. My parents tried as hard as possible to keep my existence a secret.

I walked into my room, if you'd call it that. Room was really an understatement. It was more like a separate apartment on the hundred-and-fifty-first level of the skyscraper, near the top.

I plopped down on the couch, flipped on the tv, and tried to right the jigsaw puzzle that was my brain. What had happened that school year? I knew full well what, but it still seemed so impossible. But I knew it was true.

I knew only one person could give me answers. Mr. Brunner. He was the only person who had believed me. Even the Percy Jackson kid probably give e answers. He had seemed just as confused as I was. But I had no idea how to get to Mr. Brunner. I had heard he was leaving Yancy too, so there was no way for me to contact him.

I lay down on the couch, staring out the window, looking at the mountain in the heavens above the Empire State Building.


	4. Music and Gods of

Days passed, and soon I was back into my routine of solitude. I never could tell if I enjoyed being alone. While it was depressing and lonely, it was at least better than Yancy, or any of the other boarding schools my parents tried to send me to. I switched from one world to another from school to summer, and back again in the fall. Crowds of intimidating people, to none at all. But one thing remained the same; I was not wanted. I'd never had a friend in my life. Everyone thought I was just the neighborhood psycho.

I turned off the tv, got up, and threw away the bag of chips a had been eating. My hands shook, and I tried to steady them. After all the crazy things I'd seen in my life, I was a nervous wreck constantly. That was one thing the doctors got right. I tried to calm myself. I had had the dream about Mrs. Dodds again the night before, and it left me on edge. I swallowed and walked out the door of my 'room'. I turned a corner and walked into another neighboring door. I closed it and took a breath. There was only one thing that could calm my nerves at a time like this.

The room had walls that were covered from floor to ceiling in foam to block out sound. Around the room were various musical instruments; mainly guitars (acoustic and electric) but in a corner sat a keyboard and in the middle of the room, a drum set. There was really only one thing I was good at: playing.

I walked behind the keyboard and shuffled the music on the stand. I looked at the keys and hovered my fingers above them, thinking. I set them down, and a cord fang softly through the air. I did it again, and my fingers vibrated pleasantly. I felt my worries melting away, drowned out by the music. I smiled, my fingers dancing over the white and black keys. I looked at the music sheet in front of me, and stopped playing for a second. I had forgotten this piece. It was one I was writing. I saw where I left off, played the last few notes, then picked up a pencil and made a few scribbles. I squinted and saw word under the notes. I thought, then turned the page, starting at the beginning.

_Why am I here?_

_What's happened to me?_

_I'm trying to find a light to see…_

No, that was wrong. I erased the last line.

_Why am I here?_

_What's happened to me?_

_My life is so dark,_

_So much, I can barely see._

Much better. I tapped the keys and thought. It had been so long since I had last seen or played this song, it was hard to remember what came next. Even though the words were there, they all didn't seem right. I placed my hands on the keys again and started to play, singing the words written.

_Why am I here?_

_What's happened to me?_

_My life is so dark,_

_So much I can barely see._

_I stumble around,_

_So lost and alone._

_Why won't anyone come,_

_I'm felling so thrown…_

I moved my fingers gracefully, yet forcefully along the keyboard, getting every cord right, every triplet perfectly timed, every sharp in tune. You could probably tell why I wrote this song. Music was the only way that I could express what I went through. Granted, no one else heard it, but it was still felt good.

_So now you've heard,_

_My story to tell,_

_But unlike fairytales,_

_This one may not end well._

I hit the last few cords and lifted my fingers off the keys. I rubbed my fingers, ruff and calloused from so many years of playing. I looked at the sheet music, frowning. There was still something missing. I picked up a pencil and scribbled something.

"Well, I thought it was wonderful".

I nearly threw my pencil. I looked up from my stand and saw a guy sitting on a stool, one of my electric guitars across his lap.

I backed away against the wall. "Wh-who—wha…?"

The guy smiled, his bright blue eyes twinkling playfully, as if scaring people was his favorite hobby. He looked seventeen or eighteen, with golden hair and teeth so white they nearly blinded me. He looked down at my guitar in his hands. It was sapphire blue. "Nice," he said. "You've got good taste".

I was still plastered to the wall. "How did you get in here?"

The guy looked up at me and chuckled. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Well, not usually". He beckoned me forward, and I reluctantly walked forward.

"Who are you?" I asked, not sure anymore if I should be terrified that someone broke into my house, or furious that he was getting finger prints on my favorite guitar.

"I heard that song of yours," he said, "And I've gotta say; I love it. Not very often you get mortals with that talent".

"Um…thanks," I said. "It took me a while to write it".

The guy nodded. "Well, anyways, that's not why I'm here". He stood up and set the guitar back in its place on the rack. He turned to me and said, "I've come to warn you Andy: there is danger coming".

I should have been worried more by the fact that he knew my name when I hadn't mentioned it, but instead I said, "Danger? Where? Why?"

"The Fates say I can't tell you," he said "But I can warn you, and prepare you".

"The Fates?" I said. "What are you talking about?"

"Hm," the guy said "A little harder to explain to a mortal, normally you would send them to camp—"

"Ok," I said "I'm obviously having a dream".

The guy laughed. "Really? After all you've seen, this surely isn't the most unusual thing. Perhaps it'd be better if I introduce myself first. I'm Apollo".

"Apollo?" I said. "Like the space program?"

"No!" he said, suddenly outraged. "Those mortals took my name and plastered it all over some outer mumbo jumbo that has nothing to do with me! Everyone _knows_ there are no aliens!"

"Ok," I said, holding up my hands. "Wait, you did it again".

"Did what?"

"You called me a mortal. As if…you're not".

Apollo chuckled. "I'm _not_. Andy, you've heard of Greek Myths, right? I know you were in Chiron's undercover Latin class this year".

"Who…oh, you mean Mr. Brunner? Yeah, we learned about them".

"Well, there real".

I looked at him, then tilted my head back and laughed. "All right, that's a good one" but Apollo didn't look like he was joking.

"I'm serious," he said, the radiant smile now gone. "Do you think all those things you've seen over the years are just your imagination?"

"I—wait, how do you know that?"

"I'm a god. I know everything. Well, not _everything_ per say, but I do know things like the outcome of this year's super bowl, this week's lottery numbers—"

"Wait," I said. "_You're_ a god? But you're just a teenager".

"Looks can be deceiving," he grinned. "Again: I'm a god. I can do things mortals can't".

"But…" I said "if Greek Myths are real, how come it isn't in the news, or—"

"That's a little more difficult to explain," Apollo said. "Right now I have to give you some things, before I have to go".

"Go?" I said "But you just got here".

"Yeah, well, gods are almost always on a time crunch. Right now there's a little fight up on mount Olympus. Everyone's trying to keep Zeus and Poseidon from killing each other".

"Zeus and Poseidon…you mean the gods of the sky and sea?"

"That's the ones. But I'm here to explain something else to you. You have been given a destiny unlike any other mortal".

"Me?" I said. "But—I'm not anything special".

"Well I guess that's the great thing about heroes," Apollo said. "They don't have to be extraordinary. Just brave enough to take up the challenge".

I looked at him. What was he talking about? I wasn't brave. I was, in fact, the exact opposite of brave.

"And also," Apollo said, "You need to know: when it comes time, you'll understand who you need to save".

"But that doesn't make any sense!"

"Prophecy isn't supposed to make _sense_. It just needs to be foreboding and give a taste of what's to come. I trust that you'll know what it means at the right time".

I didn't know what to say.

"Also, I have a gift for you," Apollo reached behind him and pulled out…a boomerang. He handed it to me.

"Um…what's this?" I said, holding it out. It was made of wood, with a red line on the edge.

"That is something that will protect you," Apollo said. "From the forges of Olympus itself".

"It's a child's toy," I said flatly.

"Look a little closer," said Apollo.

I squinted at the boomerang. At first nothing happened, but then the air around it started to shimmer, and then the toy looked completely different. I was holding on to a leather-bound grip in the middle, and extending from each end was a foot long bronze blade, reflecting my astonished face.

"How…" words failed me.

"It will protect you in times of danger," Apollo said. "Look at the hilt".

I removed two fingers and saw a word painted in gold. I couldn't decipher the word, because it was obviously in another language.

**Επιστρέφων**

"Epistréfon," said Apollo. "It means 'returner'. It will always return to you, no matter how far you throw it, no matter how far you run away from it".

"That's…amazing," I said. "But why would I need—"

"Andy!" called a voice. I knew instantly who it was. Gracie. She opened it door to the music room and poked her head in. "Andy, come on. Your mother is here".

"Gracie, you won't believe it," I said. "This guy named Apollo is here, and he gave me this" I held up Epistréfon.

Gracie didn't even look phased. "A boomerang? Really Andy, I think you're a little old to be playing with toys. And who's Apollo?"

"He's the guy right—" I stopped. Apollo wasn't there. I was alone.

Gracie rolled her eyes and said, "Come _on_. You know how your mother feels about waiting".

I gritted my teeth and followed Gracie, setting Epistréfon down on the stool. Yay, another visit to Mother. Great.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A word about my mother before you meet her.

Her name is Gracyn Granger, and she is the image of fame.

She travels around a lot, meeting other famous people and seeing amazing places, while I get a whole week with her out of a year, and that's if I'm lucky, which in most cases I'm not. She never gives me a second look either, which only proves my theory that the worst people have the best luck. Her parents were famous, and her grandparents. Really, I don't see how it's even possible, but her whole family tree is people who had talent in one area or another of the arts. She says that's where I get my talent as a musician from. I've never met anybody from her side of the family in person. Every once in a while she'll have a huge party in the house, and I'll get away with sneaking around, pretending I'm the child of a guest instead of a host.

Gracie led me into a lounge room, where my mother lay on a sofa in an elegant gown, like she just got back from a meeting with the queen of England. Gracie left me there, and I cautiously approached Mother.

"…Hello," I said.

Mother turned around in her seat and I saw her cold amber eyes sparkle. She has a face that people all around the world go on and on about how beautiful it is. Her skin is flawless, her ruby lipstick perfect, and eyes that look like topaz. Framing her face is short curly hair, blonde this time.

"Why, Andy," she said with a radiant smile. "How nice to see you".

"Nice to see you too," I said.

"Come, sit down," she sat up and gestured to the spot next to her. I awkwardly sat down.

"So how was school?" she asked.

"Um…ok, I guess," I said.

"Your father told me all about your…situation," she said. "And I've been looking at schools for you. I think we've found one you'll like".

I wanted to scowl. "How far?"

"London," she said. "Isn't that great?"

I looked at her incredulously. "But that's overseas".

Mother smiled, as if she hadn't heard the shock in my voice. "I knew you'd love it. But for now, I've got a little proposition for you".

"And what would that be?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Well, I've signed a contract for another movie," she said. "For a lead with Tristan Mclean. You know who he is, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, the movie has a song in it, only the director can't seem to get a writer. Gracie's told me that you write, and your playing's improved greatly…"

"You want me to write a song for a movie?" I asked, my expression changing to…no, it couldn't be. Hope.

"Yes, and I told them that I could get them a song—"

"You mean I get to be a part of your work?" I could feel my spirits rising.

"There's just one thing".

"What? I'll do anything the director asks me to do". I could just picture myself, with my mom, finally known to the world.

"You have to keep your identity a secret".

My heart fell. "What?"

"Oh, it's just one little detail," Mother said, smiling. "You'll never miss it".

"You mean…no one will even know _I_ wrote it?"

"Oh, I know how you feel," Mother put a hand on my shoulder. "Sometimes it's hard when you want to have your chance to shine".

"But why?" I said, shock melting and turning into a boil.

"Andy, try to think about it from my perspective," Mother's eyes twinkled. "You're my little secret. I wouldn't want to spoil it. You're safe here".

I sometimes forget how good an actor my mother was. She looked the picture of sincerity and caring motherhood, but her words, and eyes, told otherwise. I couldn't believe I ever thought she would change her mind about me.

"I knew you would understand Andy," she said, and wrapped me in the most awkward hug of my life. When she finally let go, she said, "Now go to the dining room. I hear the chef's making sea food today".

I got up and walked out of the room, taking the elevator to the dining level. I stared up at the empire state building, watching the mountain curiously. I squinted at the sun, and saw a chariot as bright as…well, the sun soaring across the sky. If I looked even closer, I could see a smudge of blonde. The figure looked down, and I could've sworn I saw a hand wave hello.

**If you notice, I put some quotes into the chapter when Andy was talking about his mom. Hope you liked this chapter, and sorry it takes me so long to update. With every chapter, I read through the book some to see which parts I want to correspond with pjo.**


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